Living as Gods
by halinar
Summary: Andrew wonders where to go and what to do after the events of "Chosen" and the only person that can bring him back is Xander. Not slash. My first Buffy fic rnr....please?


Living as Gods

By Halina Renata

"_I feel used and violated,"_

_                                    --Andrew, Touched_

_Andrew: I'm so alone_

_Dawn: Then maybe you shouldn't have killed your only friend._

_                                    --Show Time_

What was left of Sunnydale—well, nothing _was really left of Sunnydale except mounds of rubble, dirt, dust, collapsed buildings and occasionally the pieces of cars that were scattered around. Sunnydale was like a ghost down. Once everyone had been recuperated, Buffy had suggested they head back into the devastation to see what had happened after the destruction Spike left had settled. Taking Faith, she led the way, Xander, Willow and Giles follow and many of the Potentials too. Andrew just lagged behind by himself. When people separated off, he stood in the middle of a vast amount of rubble, unsure of what to do._

This was it. He didn't know what to do. Everything he had done at the Summer's house was to prepare for the battle with the First. There _was _nothing else and for a while, he felt as though he was doing something. He didn't feel completely alone then because someone always needed something whether it was to set the microwave, make flambé or wash the dishes.

Now what?

He stood in a rubble of nothingness. Somewhere out there was his house…the lair and all the action figures he'd left behind long ago. There was nothing else for him to do now. He had no place.

"Andrew! What are you doing!" Buffy called, far back. "Get a move on. See what you can salvage out of this."

Andrew turned round and kicked a stone roughly. It hurt and he tried not to hobble in pain but was impressed with the distance his stone went. No one had noticed of course. No one ever did. Dejectedly, he sighed and turned round to go in an opposite direction miles away from the other to see what he could salvage. That way, no one would see him. Not that anyone did whilst he was around anyway.

He spent an hour picking through stuff. He was mildly surprised that he found an intact motorbike and he went through several still standing houses to see what was inside. Andrew wondered if he could make a living out of staying in an abandoned house. After all, he knew nothing else outside Sunnydale, and Mexico sucked.

This was one of those times when he wished Warren was here…and Jonathan. In fact, he almost missed the First because, although he knew it wasn't them talking to him, they looked exactly right. The First made sure that their appearances stayed in his mind and were not lost within the chaos.

"Hey, Jonathan," he called out to the empty air. "Do you think the lair would still be accessible? I mean, I know how much the Star Wars comics and the action figures meant to you. Maybe I could…collect them, set up a little shrine wherever I live next." He picked up a vase from within the house and then set it down again. "What's it like up there? All shiny and heavenly? Is it like that dream that Warren promised? Living as Gods?"

No reply.

Not that he expected one.

"Well, maybe you can see me down here!" he called out again, turning around in the living room of the abandoned house. "Hope you've been seeing what's going on. I survived." He looked down on the ground and said sadly, "Yey for me. Maybe if I wasn't stupid enough to kill you, I'd be slightly happier about being alive."

He looked up towards the ceiling of the roof, picked up the vase and slammed it up. Shards of coloured porcelain fell around him. "I hope you're happy, Warren! Is this what you wanted? Your ultimate evil plan? Killing Jonathan, watching me suffer down here when I _know that most of this is my fault. Stop messing with my head you fucking jerk! Asshole!"_

He sat back down on the chair and put his head in his hands. "How could you do this to me, how could you both leave me?" Andrew took a deep breath. The emotional rampage was taking its toll. He forced himself not to cry. He could almost hear Warren's voice in the back of his head, telling him to shut up and not be such a cry baby. 

Stop winging.

Grow up.

He missed the insults that Warren gave out when he was in a bad mood. He missed the stupid fights he had with Jonathan when they were arguing about who was better—Batman or Superman? In the end, Xan Solo ruled over everyone. He missed stupid plans, the board, the posters, the action figures and the lair itself. It was all gone, just like the rest of Sunnydale.

And he continued missing.

Jonathan didn't know it, but he had cried the night Warren had been killed by the Evil Willow. No matter how evil Warren was, he stood by him. Was it worth it, really? Even as the First, was Warren really all that worth it?

"I'm sorry, Warren. Maybe I should have been there…I didn't know, I swear."

Andrew sighed when he realized he had never really said goodbye to either of them. He didn't have a chance with Warren and besides, Warren probably wasn't into the whole mushy goodbye thing. His problem happened so fast. With Jonathan, he did have the chance…when they were over the seal, he almost had told him.

But Warren looming over him prevented him from doing it.

"You know what," he said back out to the open air again. "I wish it was one of those films again where for one moment I could see you both again. Not the First but you. Casper for a chance…Cinderella did…kind of. I'd make it up to you, I promise."

Andrew wasn't big on suicide either. He was too scared of being hurt. He recalled the time Jonathan told him about his suicide attempt where he had taken the gun up to the one of the tower's of the old High School and prepared to shoot himself. He had felt alone. Just like he did now. Buffy Summers had been there to save him from himself that time. Buffy was here now, only she couldn't see let alone understand Andrew's suffering. 

"Yeah, well, this would all have been a lot easier if Anya hadn't died. People should really invent those turning back time watches. They could be really useful."

Shut up, Andrew. Warren again.

He ignored the back of his mind.

"That way, I could stop Anya from saving me. I could have died. I could have been under that rubble of that Bringer. At least I'd be happy that way. I'd be up with you. We'd live as Gods and Xander would have his girlfriend."

He stood up and looked at the mess he had added to the house. It wasn't like anyone was coming back to it anyway. He sighed again and walked out of the house. There he crashed into Buffy. She was the last person he wanted to see but he knew she had enough to deal with let alone punch him to send him crashing to the ground. Andrew had been emotionally beaten enough for one day. He just stood and waited. "Andrew, where've you been? We've been looking for you."

"Really?" Andrew said, his heart leaping for a second at the realization that he was wanted. People had not forgotten about him.

"Yeah. It's been three hours."

"Oh," Andrew said looking around. He didn't realize that it was slowly creeping to night. "I think…I think I'll just hang around for a while."

Buffy frowned. "Andrew, are you all right."

Andrew began to walk off. "I'm fine."

"But you look as if…"

"I'm fine!" Andrew shouted back without turning towards her.

Interesting that the Slayer cared now, he thought to himself. She had been so busy with the battle and finishing the job that she hadn't really _cared _about anyone. Not that he expected her to think of him. He just didn't want to be noticed through other people's pity. Although Warren was mean, he didn't let him stay out of pity and that's what made the atmosphere more comfortable. This…this was just pity.

Sighing to take his mind of the past, present and future, he took out his little pocket camera that had miraculously survived the battle with the First. It had a few scratches but it was working. He opened the screen and looked around it. "And this is Sunnydale, or at least what's left of it after the battle. It's just a pile of rubble. How can anyone make a home out of a destroyed town, you might ask. Well, the simple fact is, you probably can't. Although I will have to try."

He turned the camera round and zoomed in on Buffy retreating back to her friends. Giles, Willow, Xander, Faith and Robin Wood were all sitting on a mound of rubble. "The Slayer has once again triumphed over evil. Slayers all over the world have been activated and Potentials are no longer training. There are millions out there, reading to protect the world. Buffy is free of her chosen title and begin to live a normal life with her friends."

"People shall go their separate ways and their lives shall continue. But they shall remember this day."

Through the camera, Buffy had returned to her friends and obviously said something. She pointed roughly in his direction and they all looked up. Andrew swung the camera away. He didn't want to see their ridicule.

"As I said, life continues for others. For me, your humble host, it continues too, only I don't know where I am going. I yearn to explore outside the boundaries of the now dilapidated Sunnydale…but the thought actually scares me." He closes the camera and looks around calmly at the rubble and the ruined houses and the fallen street lamps. He sighed dejectedly.

He'd felt alone before but never as alone as he felt now.

*  *  *  *  *

Andrew looked at his watch. The glowing dial (which also amazingly worked) read ten to midnight. It was pitch black and now, with all the street lamps broken and no light, the stars were more visible. He was sitting on the ground with his head against the rubble, watching them. In his hand he had a long stick which he had found earlier whilst rummaging.

"La cucaracha, La cucaracha," he said to himself and laughed quietly.

He lifted his knees up and poked the stick into the ground, humming the tune in his head. Around him, it was pitch black.

Are you afraid of the dark? Warren.

N-no.

Andrew smiled slightly in his head. Jonathan was afraid of the dark; he had admitted it to Andrew himself. He had laughed at the time as well but he could understand why Jonathan insisted on having the light always on his bike and the bathroom light on near his bedroom.

He heard a shout in the distance but paid no attention to it. It was probably one of the others randomly finding something. He had seen several of the young slayers wondering around with their torches still, peering through the rubble. He just remained quiet and waited until they'd passed.

"Andrew!" he heard someone call loudly and he lifted his head. A pair of heavy feet stopped beside him a few seconds later a torch was shining close to him.

Andrew felt the silence. "Did Buffy make you come here?" he asked quietly.

Xander shook his head. "No, I made myself come here." He shook his head. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just mean…well, you've been gone most of the day and Buffy said you were a bit hyped earlier."

"The hype has gone."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? It sounds like it really." He let the sarcasm go. Switching off the torch, he sat down next to Andrew on the dirty ground. "So…err…find anything at _your end of the scavenge hunt."_

Andrew shrugged. "A money box. A working motorcycle. They might come in useful."

"Why? You planning a trip somewhere?"

Silence hung over them again. Andrew just played his heavy stick, lifting it up and dropping the end of the ground, sending up a small cloud of dust. Xander raised his eyes at the silence, indicating something that he didn't expect to hear. "Oh," he said. "So, do you know where you're going?"

"No idea. Just…somewhere." Great, Andrew thought to himself. _That didn't sound lame at all._

"Why are you going away?" Xander asked. He looked around. "Well, yeah, I admit that Sunnydale isn't exactly a hotspot at the moment and not the most attractive of places even when it was standing."

Andrew laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I saw my house." He sighed. "I might go to Wisconsin. My brother's there."

"Oh. Tucker." Xander fell silent again, playing with the torch in his hands. He'd never had such a hard time talking to Andrew. That's because Andrew did most of the talking and the rest of them told him to shut up, or insulted him in some kind of way. Andrew was unusually quiet and distant. It almost scared Xander. He'd only begun to know Andrew since he'd begun living with him and he knew enough to know this was not Andrew-like.

"I shouldn't be here," the younger boy said, bringing Xander out of his thoughts.

"What?" he asked.

"I think…I think fate planned it all wrong. Because the way I see it…the way Warren showed it to me…we were all going to be living as Gods. The trio, all together again."

Xander shook his head. "That wasn't Warren."

"I know," Andrew said forcefully, not liking to be reminded. "Still, it felt comforting. I still shouldn't be here. Anya should be here. We should swap."

The silence was worse this time. "What do you mean?" Xander asked stupidly.

"I mean, we should swap. I should have died and Anya should be here. You should be sitting here talking with her, in your love. I was ready to die because, hey, not much of a fighter. Anya had it all ready…and, and she was the one trying to keep _me prepared. And she saved me and she shouldn't of. Cause being alive now is worse than being dead, I think."_

Xander tried to stop the tears from pricking the back of his eyes. He never expected Andrew to set him off. He had been doing so well to keep his tears in despite the words his friends had said. Buffy's comfort, Willow's hug, hey, even Faith had offered some sort of condolence. "No," he said quietly, hoping he didn't sound like he was crying.

"Oh," Andrew said turning round panicky towards him, his tone of voice changing. "Xander I didn't mean to make you start crying. I'll shut up, I'll shut up, and I won't talk about Anya I swear."

Xander smiled slightly. "She was great, wasn't she?"

Andrew nodded. "Yeah, she was. And she loved you, Xander. She loved all of you lot. That's why she should be here."

Xander couldn't stop several stray tears from falling down. Andrew was rather paralysed about what to do. Tentively and carefully, he reached out a hand and patted Xander's arm. Somehow, his hand managed to go around his shoulders and he quietly held the other guy to try and relax him. Strangely enough, although Xander was sobbing quietly, Andrew seemed incapable of crying. He was saddened by Anya's death, definitely. Anya seemed to confide in him, almost understand him. Yet, somehow the tears wouldn't come.

Finally, Xander stopped. "Thanks," he said. "What were you saying about not being here?"

"What did I…" Andrew repeated and then trailed off. "It's nothing."

"Yes it is," Xander said, his voice still thick. Andrew was still quiet. "Andrew."

"It's just…you're all so…happy. Even without Anya you have Buffy and Willow and Mr Giles. You don't have as many problems as you think you do, Xander. Neither of you. The potential slayers all know where they stand now. And Faith has finally found her place in the world."

"And what? You're jealous? Alone, upset? Hey, Andrew, you _can _come and join us if you want. You don't have to hide."

Andrew shook his head. "It's not really all that. I'd never be a part of any of you. I'm just…" he laughed again, "Tucker's Brother. The other one. That guy. The murderer. The gullible boy in the corner. It'll never be perfect no matter how natural it felt. They'd still be gone."

Xander frowned. "Who would…?" He stopped abruptly. "Oh." For a moment and he couldn't sworn he heard Andrew sniff. "Call me stupid, but I really don't understand, Andrew. Warren was a bastard. A mean, murdering bastard, but different from you. Why would you miss him?"

"He liked me…for a while. And Jonathan as well. I was _happy. It all eneded badly. A tale of perfection ending in depression and dissonance.  But for a while I felt a part of something for once and not "there" because people felt sorry for me." He took a deep breath._

Xander didn't notice that his mouth was open until it began to hurt. Again with the silence. "You actually miss them?" It was supposed to come out like a statement of understanding—it came out more of a statement of disbelief.

"Yes," Andrew snapped harshly. He shifted away slightly. "So you can go back and tell your little happy group. I'll be gone by tomorrow anyway so I won't need to hear you taking the piss. Go on, go away."

Xander shook his head. "I won't," he said and Andrew wanted to believe the sincerity behind all that pity. "Why did you do it?"

"What?"

"Why did you stab Jonathan?"

Andrew paused. "I guess. I thought Warren wanted me to do it. He promised me things. It was gonna be all right. We could all be together again."

_The Trio—Living as Gods._

"Okay, so he lied." He fidgeted. "Again. And I regret it, okay! I've never felt this bad in my entire life. I'd do anything to get them back or to get myself where they are."

Xander leaned forward, grabbed Andrew's shoulders and shook him slightly. "No," he said harshly. "You are _not going to do that. You are alive for a reason. Anya chose to sacrifice herself so that you may live. Don't make what she did all be in vain. If you kill yourself too, I don't know what I'd do. The war's over now. We just have to deal."_

His eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see the glistening in the boy's eyes. "You care?"

"I'm not that mean, am I?"

Andrew laughed slightly and sniffed again. "I didn't mean that. I meant…I've spent months living with you guys and I've just been—the backroom guy. The one that no one notices. It's like Tucker's Brother all over again."

"I didn't know you felt that way," Xander replied.

Andrew shrugged. "No on asked. And when I made a comment, usually, it just resorted back to me killing Jonathan…and that's the reason why I am alone and why I am just Tucker's Brother."

"You're not alone," Xander said. "No one, out of all of us, is alone anymore. We just survived the biggest war of our time. You should be happy to be alive. It's like, an honour. You came out with no scratches. I came out eyeless. But don't worry, you're not alone." He made Andrew look at him to know he was speaking truthfully and the words out of his mouth weren't another joke he was hiding behind. Andrew looked back, trying to believe that.

"I—I guess you're right."

Xander shrugged. "I guess you gotta tag along with us a little more until we work out where we stand. We're all standing on what was the mouth of Hell. Now we started over." He stood out and outstretched his hand. "You coming or you raiding a few more houses."

Andrew thought for a second and then tentatively reached out and Xander hauled him to his feet as they made their way back to the little camp that Buffy had set up. Everyone else was there, the Potentials all set out in little groups, preparing to go home and make use of the power they had. None of that mattered to Andrew, though. 

He looked back up at the stars and smiled slightly. Warren and Jonathan may have been living as Gods up there but he was living down here. He wasn't a God, but at least he was living. 

_So, yeah, my first Buffy fic. I know kinda short and lame. Please read and review, though, I'd be really grateful *hopeful face*_


End file.
